Chores

Listening to: If I had a Million Dollars~Barenaked Ladies

I have so many things to do around the house. Lots of little projects. Yet, I have no to very little interest in doing them. What is up with that? At the cottage I did tons. I don’t know. It’s like at some else’s house, doing the dishes is always way more fun. Why is that? Cleaning at the cottage doesn’t seem the same mundane chore. I still don’t enjoy it, but it isn’t the same boring torture as at home. Is it because at home I get distracted by projects and bits of ‘important’ papers that I don’t know what to do with?

I mean, even climbing up on the roof to scrape of over a hundred years worth of paint and then apply two new layers of paint on the windows was entertaining. ???

Speaking of which, yesterday I finished unpacking. There is always the bits of stuff in the bottom of the suitcase when you return that you don’t know what to do with. Like acorns. So now I have a stack of stuff that I don’t know what to do with on my desk and the bag is sitting on the floor downstairs because it feels like ‘too much work’ to open the closet door and stuff it on the shelf with the other bags.

Anyway, at the cottage I did tons of stuff like dig new logs into the path, then rake the path and dig the crud out from around the rocks and pull out trees and whatnot. And it was an adventure. Yet, in my front yard, I have holes that the bobcat left during the tree incident from this spring. Did I fix the holes right then when I had the dirt and shovel and all that? Noooooo…the holes are still there and looking rather sad from the hot summer. Do I really want to tackle it now? No. It feels like a lot of work, when in reality it might take half an hour.

So, what is up with all this? I don’t get it. It must be some weird law to do with doing your own chores. (I mean, I went and put in someone else’s sidewalk blocks instead of doing my own chores the other month. I think I might be cracked.)